


Short and Sweet

by Victuuri gives me feelings (Help_Im_Shipper_Trash)



Category: Sekai-ichi Hatsukoi
Genre: Drabble Collection, M/M, Romantica makes a brief appearance, these are all very short, wanted to share my tumblr drabbles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2019-11-24 00:10:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 5,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18158879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Help_Im_Shipper_Trash/pseuds/Victuuri%20gives%20me%20feelings
Summary: Kind of like Ritsu. Sometimes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drunk Rambling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Imagine drunk!Ritsu turning into the kind of passionate person who can talk about a subject during hours and Takano being lowkey impressed as Ritsu manages to present a detailed study of his favorite book despite being ready to collapse
> 
> I…may have gotten a bit carried away… Oops.

“Listen,  _listen.”_

Masamune Takano raises the beer can in his hand to his lips to hide his smile. He is, as a matter of fact, listening to Ritsu. Very closely. “I  _am_  listening,” he points out, amusement seeping into his voice despite his best efforts. “I have been since you started talking about this  _three hours ago.”_

Lord, Kisa would faint if he could hear the soft, fond amusement in his boss’s tone right now. Thank goodness the two of them are at home, away from the hustle and bustle of the emerald department.

Ritsu glares at him from across the table. “Well, you aren’t paying enough attention,” he says petulantly. “This ’s important,” he insists yet again, despite the fact that Masamune had never said anything to the contrary. His eyes are struggling to focus, and his words had passed the point of slurring long ago.

Masamune may be a bit tipsy, but to say that Ritsu is utterly wasted would a gross understatement. It’s a miracle he’s even still sitting up straight, honestly. It’s impressive, how eloquently he can present his analysis on all of his favorite books, considering that he looks to be on the verge of passing out.

Ritsu picks up his rant where he left off, like he’d never stopped in the first place. “Akihiko Usami is  _incredible,_  and I’ll keep sayin’ it until you understand,” he declares not for the first time this evening, and not for the last if Masamune were to guess. “His writing is  _genius,”_  he says reverently, tracing the spine of the book -that he’s been talking about  _non-stop-_  on the table in front of him gently, as if it were a precious artifact. “His characters ‘re so  _real._  It’s like they’re based on actual humans,” he says, hazy eyes practically sparkling.

Masamune’s heart seizes. Seeing Ritsu like this is… dangerous, in many definitions of the word. He couldn’t argue with Ritsu if he wanted to, and he definitely does not want to hinder the forest burning in Ritsu’s distracted eyes in any way.

Oblivious to the whirlwind of feelings he’s stirring in the man across from him, Ritsu continues his sermon, slurred words and all. “His imagery is impossible for any regular human to ever hope to duplicate. He could write a book about driving through Tokyo traffic and ’m sure it would still be amazing!”

 _Tokyo traffic?_  Unable to help himself any longer, Masamune gives up on fighting the laugh that’s been building up in his stomach for the last thirty minutes.

Ritsu’s cheeks heat angrily. “Hey, why’re you laughing,” he demands sharply. “This is  _important,”_  he says again, a pout forming on his lips.

It takes longer for Masamune to smother his chuckles than it would if he were sober. Eventually, though, he manages it. “Of course it is,” he says placatingly.

Ritsu raises an eyebrow suspiciously, but it would seem he’s too intoxicated to call Masamune out on being a prick like he normally would.

It’s nice, seeing this side of Ritsu that nobody else ever gets to. And if doing so involves Masamune listening to him preach -in excruciating detail- about books and Akihiko Usami all night, then so be it.

Masamune smiles. He’ll never admit this out loud, but he could probably stay here in their little bubble, and banter back and forth with Ritsu about their beloved books forever. “Keep talking. I’m all ears,” he promises, propping his elbows on the coffee table and resting his chin on his hands.

Ritsu’s eyes widen, matching the smile on his face and the blush blooming beautifully on his cheeks. For once, he does what Masamune says without question.

 _God, Ritsu is too adorable._  Masamune wishes he was like this all the time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quill

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obligatory HP Au everyone!!!

_He fell asleep again._

 The fourth year is going to catch a cold if he keeps falling asleep in the library like this.

_Don’t act like you don’t know what his name is,_  Masamune’s brain whispers in a hiss, as if even his thoughts are terrified of waking the boy from his well-earned slumber. All he can do is comply.

_Ritsu,_ (and boy, wouldn’t he be shocked if he realized that Masamune knew his name) has fallen asleep with his head on the library table, surrounded by scattered parchment paper, books, and his hazel colored quill for three days in a row now. It’s getting ridiculous. His blue robes are going to get wrinkled if he keeps this up. Then again, Masamune’s own green robes are always a little less than crisp and pristine, so he can’t say much about that.

_Does this kid ever sleep,_ Masamuneidly wonders, letting his gaze linger longer than he would if the subject of his current interest was awake. The small rise and fall of his thin shoulders is… interesting. Captivating. He wants to keep watching.

But really, the kid is going to get sick if he keeps doing this.

That’s the only reason, he tells himself, that he tugs the inconvenient fabric off of his back and drapes it over Ritsu’s shoulders. The only reason.

There’s a small hitch of breath, but otherwise, he shows no signs of waking. Good.

Masamune closes the book, but he’d be lying if he said that his eyes didn’t stray to the younger boy’s face as he did so. There are bags under his eyes. Masamune doesn’t like them.

“You need to sleep more,” he whispers, tucking the robe more securely against Ritsu’s shoulders.

As expected, Ritsu doesn’t answer.

Masamune wonders, again, why such a strange, scrawny boy years younger than him had to be the one to capture his attention so effortlessly. It’s annoying.  _He’s_  annoying. (So why is he doing this?)

Fuck knows, honestly.

Before he goes, Masamune picks up Ritsu’s quill and inspects it for a moment. It’s like him. Soft. Pretty. Something he shouldn’t be touching. And it must be a coincidence, but it almost looks like the quill is the same color as Masamune’s eyes. Weird.

He knows he shouldn’t, but he writes a note, puts it where Ritsu will be sure to see it, and gently places the quill back down on top of the book.

“Ravenclaws are supposed to be smart, right? Let’s see if you’re smart enough to find me,” Masamune whispers, watching hypnotized when Ritsu shivers in response.

That’s dangerous. He’s dangerous.

Masamune leaves before he can do anything stupid. (More than he already has.)

* * *

Later, Ritsu groans and blinks awake to a piece of paper sitting against his nose and oddly warm. “Again?” He asks the table pressing against his forehead. That’s the third time this week! Blinking the sleep out of his eyes, he subconsciously wraps the robes a little tighter around himself. Something about them doesn’t seem right.

A flash of green catches his eye.

These are not his robes. _‘What the hell?’_

“Where did these come from,” he wonders absently, yawning again before he can stop himself.

Belatedly, he realizes that the paper in front of him has unfamiliar writing on it. He’s not sure why, but his cheeks warm when he reads it.

_You fell asleep again. Don’t you know a big bad Slytherin might try and steal your quill?_

Ritsu’s hands tighten around the parchment. There’s no way… But if the one who wrote this is who he thinks it was, then they already stole much more than his quill a long time ago.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bleeding Kindness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love these two so much istg. Writing about them is my therapy.

Ritsu Onodera bleeds kindness. No matter a stranger or a friend, he cares about people more than he’ll ever admit. He always has.

Masamune Takano knows this better than anyone. It’s one of the things he loves most about him.

But Ritsu’s kindness is not always obvious. Then again, nothing about him is.

Takano learned how to read behind the lines a long time ago. To see past Ritsu grumpily thrusting a mug full of Masamune’s favorite coffee at him in the early mornings with a muttered “You’re too awful to deal with before you’ve had caffeine”, to the true gesture of Ritsu going through the trouble of making him coffee. Past Ritsu’s gruff and often snappy demands to “Tell me when you aren’t feeling well, would you?” and see that, no matter how hard he tries to hide it, he cares about Masamune.

And he’s learned to look through Ritsu’s ever stubborn clams that “This is not love!” to see every time Ritsu asks him a meaningless question to learn more about him. To every time he wakes up in the morning to a small, warm body pressed against his, and sees that Ritsu no longer tries to sneak out in the middle of the night. Every time Ritsu lets him in; lets him stay close.

Where was he going with this again? Oh, right. Ritsu bleeds kindness.

But this is a little much. Even for him.

“You idiot,” Masamune scolds, wrapping another layer of bandages around Ritsu’s arm. “How the hell did you manage this?” The thankfully shallow cut on Ritsu’s arm has finally stopped bleeding, but that won’t stop him from working about it.

Honestly, only he would somehow scratch a good three inches into his bicep.

The second three timid knocks at his door had sounded, Masamune had known who it was. He had been surprised, for sure, but nothing could have prepared him for the sight that awaited him when he answered his door.

“Um,” Ritsu had said, biting his lip and clutching his arm with white knuckles. “I think I may need a little help.” That was the first warning bell. Ritsu  _never_  asks for help.

Masamune’s heart had stopped when he saw the blood. Even now, it isn’t beating quite right. It probably won’t until Ritsu is okay.

Ritsu winces, and his arm tenses under Masamune’s hands.

Masamune freezes instantly. “Shit, are you okay?” He knew he should have dragged him to the hospital-

Ritsu smiles weakly. “It’s fine.”

Masamune frowns. Yeah, he doesn’t believe that for one second.

Ritsu groans when Masamune finished fully wrapping his arm and lets him go. “This is your fault, you know,” he says petulantly. It’s kind of a relief. If Ritsu can still argue with him, that’s a good sign.

“Excuse me?” Masamune will never understand this man. “What the hell did I do,” he asks incredelously.

Ritsu’s eyes narrow defiantly. “I was trying to cook dinner for you, but the knife slipped because I got distracted-”

Masamune forgets how to breathe. “You were trying to cook? For  _me?” Who_ is this man, and what has he done with Ritsu Onodera?

Ritsu blinks, and red blooms on his face when he realizes his inadvertent confession. “It’s… Just… Only because I know that Yokozawa was getting on your nerves today, and also because I know that the printers were being dicks. That’s all,” he insists vehemently.

Masamune stares. Intensely.

Ritsu starts to fidget. “What,” he demands pevishly.

 _How the hell are you so perfect?_ It’s seriously not fair.

Ritsu looks like he’s about to try and escape, so Masamune steps forward and tugs Ritsu against his chest before he can. Wrapping his arms tightly around Ritsu’s hips, he rests his forehead on the top of Ritsu’s head. “You…” he murmurs. “Are going to be the death of me. You know that?”

Ritsu sputters. Masamune wishes he could see his face. “Not a big deal or anything,” he mutters, face growing warm enough for Masamune to feel it through his chest. He doesn’t try to pull away, though.

Not that Masamune would have let him. What did he say? Ritsu bleeds kindness.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pigeon Killer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set in the Being Heard/Together universe, have some pre-married bois!!!

Ritsu Onodera is never going to hear the end of this. 

Sitting down on the park bench next to him, Masamune flicks him on the forehead. Again. “I can't  _ believe  _ you got lost coming here,” he huffs. 

Ritsu huffs right back. He can't really defend himself, though. He can't believe he got lost either. 

Masamune ruffles Ritsu's hair into a mess, happily ignoring his shriek of protest. “How do you ever get anywhere,” he asks, sounding genuinely confused. 

Ritsu fights the urge to stick his tongue out at his fiance. “It's not my fault,” he insists, cheeks warming when Masamune scoffs at him in disbelief. “It's  _ not.  _ You know I have no sense of direction. Going to new places always ends up like this!” 

Beside him, Masamune laughs. It isn't mocking or condescending though. It's sincere. Light. Ritsu likes that laugh. “Fine, fine,” Masamune concedes, patting Ritsu's head one more time because he knows it annoys him. 

Ritsu growls at him warningly. 

Laughing a little more, Masamune lets out a deep breath and takes Ritsu's hand. He doesn't say anything else. They just sit together in peaceful silence, watching life occur in the park they're in, holding hands like nothing else in the world matters. 

Maybe it doesn't. 

Sneakily, Ritsu's glances towards their twined hands. Even now, he's glad he went with the silver ring. They match. 

Pigeons wander the grounds, searching for litter and abandoned snacks. Their feathers are shiny and reflect rainbows. They're beautiful. 

A thought occurs to Ritsu, but he doesn't want to disturb the silence and say it. He doesn't have to, though. 

Masamune's already noticed. He always does. “What is it,” he asks softly, running his thumb along the back of Ritsu's hand. 

Ritsu enjoys the contact a little more before he says anything. “When… when we get married,” he starts, trying in vain to fight down the heat rising to his cheeks. “I think I want to release pigeons at the end.” That's a thing people do, right? 

Masamune looks at him, and there's an emotion on his face so intense it takes Ritsu's breath away. “Okay. Yeah. That sounds nice. Let's do it.” He smiles and squeezes Ritsu's hands. 

Ritsu's heart skips a beat. If happiness could kill, he would have been dead a long time ago. 

Masamune looks at the pigeons in contemplation. “And then everyone can throw rice at us,” he says jokingly.

Ritsu laughs. “No, you're not supposed to do that,” he claims, nudging Masamune in the side with his shoulder. “That's bad for the pigeons. Is that what you want? To be a pigeon killer? I can't marry a pigeon killer,” he says solemnly. 

Masamune nudges him back. “That's a myth,” he says dismissively. “Throwing rice does not kill pigeons.”

Ritsu keeps his face expressionless. “I am not willing to take that chance. 

Masamune snorts, and Ritsu can't stop the smile from breaking across his face. “Well, dead pigeons or not, I'm fine as long as I get to marry you.” He says it so casually, like a comment on the weather. Unreal. 

Ritsu's heart stutters. All he can say in response is “Me too”. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so wordy and bleh

Masamune Takano is no arsonist. 

Really, he's not. He doesn't even like fire. (He's been burned too many times before, figuratively, to make it something literal.) 

But Ritsu… Ritsu has a fire in his eyes that he can never get enough of. 

It's there when he or someone else gives Ritsu a challenge. It's there when he promises to do something that should be impossible, but somehow isn't, for him. It's there whenever someone underestimates him; which happens far too often for either of their likings. It's there like nothing else in Masamune's life ever has been: constantly, unwaveringly, and unfailingly. 

And sometimes, it's even there when Masamune kisses him. 

That fire is bright. Hot. Intoxicating. But every once in a while, it dims. Looking into those green eyes, and not seeing the beautiful spark of defiance, of life, cuts Masamune's heart deeply. 

It dims after a bad day. After a long night. After being underestimated too many times. Of being called a “coattail rider.” (Those are the times Masamune hates the most. It always takes longer for the fire to come back, when that happens.)

Thankfully, no matter what gets thrown at him, the burning light never gets washed away from Ritsu for long. It's one of the things Masamune loves most of him. One day, he hopes he can be part of the fire in Ritsu's eyes. Or, if not that, at least something that can help reignite it. 

Until then, though, he'll do everything in his power to keep the flame burning strong. Ritsu never asks for much. He'll at least keep the fire he holds onto so dearly if Masamune has anything to say about it. 

So again, Masamune is no arsonist. But that's not to mean that he doesn't love the fire in Ritsu's eyes. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elegant.

Ritsu Onodera is many things. Elegant is not one of those.

He's sharp-witted and stubborn. He's determined, and stubborn. He's hard-working, and stubborn. He's humble, and stubborn. He's unconfident, and stubborn. He's brave -when he needs to be- and stubborn. He's beautiful, and stubborn. (And did Masamune mention that he's stubborn?)

But Ritsu Onodera is not elegant.

He's clumsy. He trips over air. He spills coffee on himself. He's bad with people. He oversleeps. He's obnoxious when he's drunk. He snores. He bumps into furniture and walls and people. Ritsu Onodera is not elegant.

But there are moments where he's almost graceful.

When he closes his eyes and turns his face into the night wind, he is graceful. When he smoothly dodges out of the way of a frazzled subway goer, who almost rudely knocks him out of the way to get on the last train, he is graceful. When he's focused, sharp like a laser, on the storyboard in front of him, he is graceful. When he's reading, lips softly curving, likely without his knowledge, he is graceful. When he smiles, he is graceful.

It's hard to capture, but the rare times Ritsu is graceful always blows Masamune's breath away.

Ritsu Onodera is not elegant. But there are moments where he is graceful.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hatred

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This hurt me

Masamune Saga hates everything. 

He hates school. (Because  _ he's _ not there anymore.) He hates going home. (Somehow, the fights and the yelling and the feeling of suffocation has gotten worse.) He hates his parents and his teachers. (They keep telling him he needs to “grow up and stop acting like such a child.” Like his broken heart is on par with a toddler's broken toy.) He hates the library, now. (His safe haven has been infected by  _ his  _ ghost. Damn him, he ruined the one good thing Masamune had left.) 

He hates Ritsu Oda. (Because he up and  _ left  _ with nothing but a kick in the face that had hurt his heart more than anything. He hadn't even said a word -no explanation. No goodbye-before he was just… gone. What the  _ fuck?)  _ It's like he was never there in the first place, and he hates that too. 

Most of all, though, he hates himself. (For letting Ritsu go.)

He hates school and his classes and his teachers and his parents. Hell, the only thing he doesn't hate at this point is Sorata. (And even that's been tainted by the knowledge that Ritsu had seen him save his cat. Damn scrawny jackass ruined everything.) He hates his room. It still smells like him. (If he concentrates, he can still feel Ritsu sitting next to him.) He hates his bed. (That he can still see Ritsu smothering him on. That he had come willingly to when Masamune had asked.)

He  _ hates  _ Ritsu Oda. For being there one moment, and gone the next. He hates Ritsu Oda for being sweet and kind and understanding and patient and  _ honest.  _ He hates Ritsu for being the first person in his entire, fucked up life to ever genuinely give a shit about him. But he still loves him, too, for the exact same reasons. 

He hates everything. He  _ wants _ to hate Ritsu Oda. He  _ should. _

But he doesn't. He can't. 

Masamune Saga  _ can't  _ hate Ritsu Oda, and that makes him hate everything else even more. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lonely Nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Y'all sure love angst, don'tcha? I approve. I know this title is uncreative pls let me live I'm posting this on my lunch break.

Nao Kiyomiya's roommate is weird. 

Onodera is his name apparently. And Nao only knows that because of the signs that we're on their door on the first day. He never introduced himself. He'd thought they'd be able to bond over both being Japanese, but that did… not work out. 

To tell the truth, Nao knows very little about his roommate. Only that he doesn't talk unless forced. And that all he does is go to class, sit silently, and then… Nao guesses he goes back to their room? He has no clue, honestly. Because he Never. Talks! Seriously, Nao's met mimes that make more noise than him. And even after living together for a few months, he doesn't think he's ever seen him eat or drink anything. Talk about freaky. 

It's no wonder people call him The Ghost. 

But the way he silently goes from place to place, never making a sound above a slight whisper is the least significant basis for his nickname. What gave him that name is the look in his eyes; lost, confused, and lonely. Like he's haunted by a pain that no one else can see. It's actually kind of heartbreaking. 

But the nightmares are worse. 

Every night, without fail, Nao is woken up by broken, soul-crushing sobs and choked gasps for breath. It always sounds like a name:  _ Saga-senpai.  _

Nao doesn't know who that is, but whatever he did to Ritsu must have been pretty bad. Every muffled cry and shattered whimper cuts him to the core, despite the fact that he knows nothing about the boy they're coming from. 

Consider it a bit of solidarity. He went through the same thing when his brother…

Anyway. Nao may know next to nothing about his definitely weird roommate, or why he has such terrible nightmares, but he doesn't need to. He can recognize the pain, and the loneliness that's plaguing him all too well.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surprise Romantica chapter!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just know, that I have never written Romantica. Oh, and please don't tell my Nostalgia that I cheated on them!!!

Usami Akihiko is many things.

An award-winning author. Rich. Successful. Gay. ( _ Very gay.)  _ Overprotective. Possessive. Confident. Arrogant. Shameless. Perverted. Sweet. Caring. Romantic. Honest. All in all, he's utterly ridiculous.

But right now, all that matters is that he is about to be murdered -slowly and painfully- by one irritated, completely fed up Misaki Takahashi. “Usagi. You are  _ not  _ dying.” 

Usagi, as always, doesn't listen to him. “Misaki,” he croaks weakly. “When I'm gone, please take care of Suzuki,” he pleads solemnly. 

Misaki rolls his eyes, and nearly burns his hands on the bowl of hot soup he's carrying when he lets his guard down and stops paying attention for a moment. After that crisis is averted, he lets out a slow breath of relief and glares at his boyfriend. “I will not take care of Suzuki,” he declares firmly. 

Usagi mutters something about betrayal. 

Misaki sighs. Long, slow, and deep. Losing his temper with the damned rabbit will not accomplish anything. He must remain calm. (It's very hard to listen to his own advice.) “I won't take care of Suzuki, because you. Are. Not. Dying,” he says again, trying to keep his voice calm and patient, but not quite succeeding.  “You have a cold, you big baby.”

Usagi scoffs in disagreement. It doesn't do much to dispute Misaki's claim of him being childish. “I haven't had a cold since I was four years old. Clearly, I am suffering from some new, unique vaccine that has no cure yet,” he laments dramatically. 

Misaki has to fight very hard to resist the urge to dump the soup over Usagi's head. The only thing that stops him is fear of repercussion from Aikawa for giving Usagi a valid reason to skip off of his writing. (How she has not gone insane, yet, in all her years of dealing with him, will forever remain one of life's greatest mysteries.) “You  _ do  _ realize that you're a human being, right? Just  _ thinking  _ that you don't have to deal with something as mundane as the common cold doesn't make you immune to it.”

Usagi sniffs. “Well it  _ should,”  _ he protests petulantly.

_ This man cannot be serious. _

And yet, it seems that he is.

Misaki takes a deep breath. “Just drink this. You'll feel better by tomorrow,” he promises, barely keeping his patience. “Hurry up and get better.”

Usagi finally accepts the tray of food that's been being offered to him for the last five minutes. It smells delicious. Misaki is an angel. A thought strikes him, and he opens his mouth to remind Misaki that, when he dies, he demands that part of his ashes be kept on his person at all times, in one of those memory lockets. 

But Misaki is already gone. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Myths

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, last one for now! I'll mark this as complete, but don't be surprised if I update it in the future!

Ritsu Onodera, logically, knows that ghosts, spirits, and pretty much everything else you see in a standard horror movie, don't exist.

He knows that the Boogeyman isn't real. He knows that they're not such thing as monsters. (Unless you count the demons that live in the printer's office Monday through Friday, eight to five.) He knows that nothing really ever goes bump, creak, or creep in the night, outside of his overactive imagination. He _knows_ that it's all just a myth.

But now it's late, and he also knows this: Something just made a weird sound in the other room. Something looks like it's hiding behind the shadow cast by their bedroom door. Something feels like it's watching him, hiding in the pitch black of their bathroom. He can hear breathing that's not his, and while the rational part of his brain is completely aware that it _has_ to belong to Masamune, it's hard to be rational when it's dark and silent and he's all too alone.

Well, not completely alone. Masamune is next to him. But this is his fault, anyway! _'Why did you have to pick a scary movie for tonight, jerk!?’_

In lieu of a proper answer or apology, Masamune simply snores.

If Ritsu wasn't too scared to venture outside the safety of the blanket draped over his chest, he'd smack him.

A creak echoes down the hallway outside their room. It sounds like a footstep.

Ritsu's racing heart skips a beat. He squeezes his eyes shut, and holds his breath.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three sec-

The mattress next to him shifts. Ritsu's heart freezes

“Why,” a deep, sleep-rough voice whispers in his ear, sending chills down his spine. “Do you _never_ sleep?”

Ritsu's pulse, pointing painfully against his ribcage, eases slightly. Masamune's voice always has that effect on him. It really isn't fair. "This time it's your fault,” he insists, internally cringing when his voice comes out sounding wobbly and breathless rather than the irritated he'd been going for.

Masamune makes an incredulous, questioning noise.

Ritsu can _hear_ his eyebrows raise skeptically. “I can't stop thinking about that stupid movie,” he confesses angrily, breathing still shakier than he'd like. “I keep thinking I hear things now, and it's freaking me out!”

Masamune's figure tenses.

If he laughs, Ritsu _swears_ that he-

Before the empty threat can even be completed, Masamune scoots forward and makes Ritsu lose his train of thought. One of his arms snakes under Ritsu's head, becoming a makeshift pillow as his hand sneaks upward and his fingers tangle in Ritsu's hair. The other arm drapes across Ritsu's shoulders, wrapping around him like a security blanket.

It's like magic, how automatically Ritsu's heart rate slows down a few notches. How instantly the air trapped, frozen in his lungs, melts and lets him breathe easier.

Masamune cards his fingers through Ritsu's hair a few times. “Go to sleep, okay?” His voice is a low, soothing whisper that Ritsu can feel rumble from his chest into the quiet air. His fingers never stop moving through Ritsu's hair: every once in a while gently removing a snarled tangle. “It's alright. The movie wasn't real. None of it was real,” he assures. “And even if it was, there's no way I'd let anything hurt you,” he promises softly.

Ritsu's heart beats slowly, growing more sluggish by the second. He'll never admit it, but those words make him feel infinitely better “I know that,” he snaps. There isn't much heat behind it. “And I hardly need you to protect me,” he scoffs.

It's not very convincing. Masamune's smile is bright enough to light up the dark room.

Ritsu yawns. In spite of his petulant words, a warm wave of _safecontenthome_ washes over him. For the first time all night, weariness weighs his body down. Or maybe that's Masamune. Who knows?

Masamune hums in response. His arm draws Ritsu in closer, tucking him against his chest. “Goodnight, Ritsu.”

Ritsu is asleep before he can say it back. He tries to fight it, but before he knows it, his eyelids are growing heavier. He drifts off to sleep in seconds

Because really, nothing bad can hurt him here. It's all just a myth.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Green Eyed Monster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Answer to a request on Tumblr

Ritsu Onodera has good eyes (much to the chagrin to his eyeglasses wearing fiance), but he has even better ears. Sometimes, he wishes that this weren't the case. Right now, in fact, is a perfect example.

"Hey, look at that guy over there," a blonde, objectively attractive woman hisses to her brunette, equally objectively attractive friend, bumping her in the side. Conspicuously, they both sneak glances at the object of their current interest.

Ritsu's hands twitch. He doesn't even have to follow their line of sight. He already knows who they're talking about. Internally, he sighs.  _'Here we go again.'_  Why does this happen nearly  _every_  time they go out in public? It had gotten ridiculous a long time ago. Really, he knows that they could be talking about anyone, but they aren't. He's heard that line too many times before, and he knows exactly who  _that guy over there_ is.

Oblivious to it all, as always, Masamune is a good few feet away, buying tickets for the movie they'd come to see from a bored looking booth attendant. Leaving Ritsu to suffer the curse of unobservant women alone.

Without looking away from Masamune, the brunette mutters back to her friend. "He just came in with that other guy, right? Do you think he's single?"

Ritsu's ring burns his finger.  _'Hardly,'_  he thinks bitterly.

Not for the first time, he wishes his hearing wasn't quite so good. Because with it, he has to hear every nudge, every hushed whisper, and every secret conversation about  _his_ fiance. It's exactly as fun as it sounds.

"I don't know, let's go ask him," the blonde suggests, and the brunette nods in agreement.

Ritsu's stomach curls. Different day, same old story that he already knows by heart. Now comes the part where they saunter over to his fiance, try to chat him up, and maybe flirt a little too obviously until he catches on to what's happening. The only thing that varies is how long it takes Masamune to brush them off. Ritsu hopes that today is one of the quicker ones.

But something strange happens. The girls don't stick to the same script every other person usually reads. They don't approach Masamune.

They approach Ritsu. That's not part of the typical lineup. Dread curls in his stomach.

"Hi," the blonde greets, all sky blue eyes that match her sunny smile.

"Sorry to bother you," the brunette says, and it's an empty apology if Ritsu's ever heard one.

Ritsu forces a small smile in return.  _'Pleaseleavepleaseleavepleaseleave.'_

Sadly, they don't. "You came in with that hot guy, right?" The blonde nods towards Masamune.

 _The hot guy._ Like that's all he is. Like he isn't impossibly smart and cunning and sweet and kind. Hot. Something warm and angry churns in his stomach. They don't know anything about him. Not like Ritsu does.  _'It's none of your business.'_

"Yeah, we were wondering if you could tell us if he has a girlfriend," the brunette says hopefully.

Ritsu almost laughs. He almost cries. But of course, he doesn't do either of those things. "Uh, no, he doesn't have a girlfriend," he says quietly, cursing himself for every word that escapes his mouth.

 _'Idiot! Tell them who you are, and that they have no chance,'_ he orders himself harshly. To no surprise, he doesn't take his own advice.

Joy and excitement reflect in both of the girls' eyes. The fact that both the blonde and the brunette are both tall and thin -therefore,  _exactly_ Masamune's type- doesn't go unnoticed.

"So he's single?"

Ritsu cringes at the blonde's question. "Um, well, not… exactly," he says weakly. Dammit, why can't he just  _tell_ them?

 _'Hurry_ up  _Masamune.'_

Confusion clouds the girls' features.

It doesn't have a chance to stay there for long, though.

Ritsu jolts when an arm wraps around his waist.

"Hey," Masamune whispers, leaning down and softly kissing Ritsu's cheek.

The heat that rises to them is instant.

"Sorry that took so long," he says, squeezing Ritsu's hips.

The girls' stunned eyes remain frozen for a second. The blonde is the first to notice the ring in his finger, and then the matching one on Ritsu's. Her jaw drops.

A small, tiny drop of satisfaction warms Ritsu up on the inside.  _'Well, I told the truth. He doesn't have a girlfriend.'_

Masamune doesn't look at anyone but Ritsu, and the small bit of satisfaction grows. "Ready to go," he asks softly. "The movie's going to start soon."

Lips curving slightly, Ritsu nods. "Yeah, let's go."

Masamune smiles. They leave.

The girls stay where they are. Like they should have in the first place.

Walking away from the dumbstruck women, Ritsu allows himself a tiny smile.

_'Sorry, but he's mine.'_


End file.
